


In Which Everything Is Exactly As It Should Be

by grapehyasynth



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Perthshire Cottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapehyasynth/pseuds/grapehyasynth





	In Which Everything Is Exactly As It Should Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raptorlindsay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raptorlindsay/gifts).



 

Molly came pelting out the open front door the instant Fitz opened the gate. Laughing, he stooped to hoist the bundle of frenetic joy and cradle her against his chest. “Alright then, Mol? Enjoyed your day with your mum?”

The dog wriggled gleefully and soaked his face with kisses. He ruffled her ears one more time before depositing her back onto the grass and letting her lead the way through the arch of the doorway, which was outlined in spring blossoms.

Jemma was in the breakfast nook, which had long since justified the cost of adding it to the cottage as it’d become a lunch nook, a work nook, a teatime nook, and on several racy occasions a canoodling-and-more nook. She looked up from the paper she was editing and smiled radiantly at him.

“Hi, babe.” They’d never been much for pet names, either of them, but it was funny the ways in which almost dying a few thousand times could change your habits. “How was Graeme?”

“Good,” he said earnestly. “Really good. He seems to think we’re making a lot of progress.”

Jemma smiled. “ _I_ could have told you that. You haven’t had a nightmare in weeks.”

“Yeah, but Graeme’s got the relevant degree to be making those kinds of claims.” He kissed the crown of her head and went to shuck off his light jacket.

He’d resisted the idea of therapy at first. He felt about all he deserved and needed was a padded cell. But even when he felt he was going mad in every which way, he’d still do anything for Jemma, and she’d asked him to try talking to someone.

He tried not to think what might’ve happened, had they not decided to leave SHIELD right after their wedding. (Another side effect of almost dying a thousand times: you started thinking maybe it was someone else’s turn to save the world.) Without the stress of their job, he’d no longer been able to hide the Doctor as just another symptom of over-work, and Jemma and his mum had tag-teamed on an intervention which led to all three of them crying and holding each other, and then two days later to his first session with Graeme.

As it turned out, their absence hadn’t spelled disaster. Coulson had finally decided he’d need to loop the Avengers in on the end of the world situation; they, in turn, informed him they’d known for years he was alive but hadn’t been in touch because they assumed he’d tell them when he was good and ready. With their help, Graviton was defeated and Daisy agreed to have her inhibitor surgically removed.

“Your beans have started,” Jemma reported, capping her highlighter. “Only just kept Molly from digging them up.”

“You’re a rascal, aren’t you?” Fitz growled at the dog, who just wagged her tail harder and made a playful pass at his ankles. “How was the meeting?”

“A bit frustrating, to be honest, but when I start getting peeved at this minister or that I just picture Mack chopping AIDA’s head off and I feel at peace.” She smiled serenely -- his bright, terrifying wife. “We’ll need to go to London in a few weeks to assess their recommendations.”

“I’ll ask Hunter if we can crash with him and Bobbi. “

“Also, Deke called. He’ll be at your mum’s this weekend.”

Fitz grabbed a box of biscuits from a cabinet and joined Jemma in the nook. “Of course he is. He spends more time with me mum than I do.”

“I think that’s normal, love,” Jemma chuckled. “She _is_ his great-gran. And she makes the best cakes on this or any island, you’ve said so yourself.”

Fitz nodded and snuck Molly a few crumbs. “Keep saying we’ve got to make her apply for the _Bake-Off_. She’d smear the floor with the lot of them. Did you tell them we’d be by?”

“I did.”

“Love you,” Fitz avowed, around a mouthful of at least six cookies.

That night they had spagbol, played Scrabble, watched some classic _Who_ , made love on the couch, and drank red wine under the stars until Fitz fell asleep on Jemma’s shoulder.

Everything was exactly as it should be.

 


End file.
